A day in the hospital
by Gaviidae
Summary: My first story! It's a little snippet of Karofsky's time in the hospital before Kurt visits him. Set during 'On My Way'.


There was a knock on the door and it swung open. "Hello, David?"

"Hello…?" Karofsky wasn't sure if this was a dream or not. His head had been really hazy lately.

A youngish woman stepped in. She was wearing a charcoal suit. "Hi, there. I hope I didn't wake you."

"No, no, I'm awake."

"My name's Emily, and I'm a social worker here at the hospital. Could I talk to you for a few minutes?" She glanced at her watch.

Karofsky had a feeling that it didn't matter what he said. Things in the hospital seemed to work that way. He had, however, been trying to play the part of the ideal cooperative patient, and so he conceded. "Sure, yeah."

She sat down in the chair across from Karofsky's bed.

"How did you sleep last night?"

"Not too bad." Which was a lie.

Emily seemed to buy it. "That's great; the hospital isn't the best place to get a good night's sleep. So you think your meds are working?"

"I guess… I mean, I've been feeling pretty OK about things." Which was a lie.

"You've been feeling OK; that's good. That's really good to hear."

Karofsky nodded his approval. He hoped everyone hear was that gullible.

She continued, "I've looked over your file, so there's no need, really, to reinvent the wheel, but—would it be OK if I asked a few questions about your home life? About how things are with your folks?"

"Sure."

This was going to be bad.

"If I remember correctly, your father brought you here?" Karofsky nodded. "How are things with him? Do you get along with him? Fight? Argue?"

"Oh… my dad and I are really close. We—we get along really well." Which was a lie.

Emily smiled. "You and your dad are close; that's great. I don't hear that very often. Lots of guys have _daddy trouble_." Karofsky wasn't sure if he was supposed to laugh or not. He decided not to. "What about your mother? How are things with her usually?"

There's a story. Might as well tell the truth. "Usually—usually things are fine. Usually. Not now, though. Now it's…pretty bad. We fight—a lot. We fight all the time, it seems like sometimes."

"So, you used to get along well with her, but things have been tougher lately?"

"Yeah." To put it mildly.

"What do you think changed between the two of you?"

_She found out her son was a big fat faggot. _

Karofsky groaned, but managed to turn it into a throat-clearing noise.

Emily was watching him intently. She had big blue eyes. "If you don't want to talk, that's OK too."

"No, no… No, it's OK, I guess. It's just hard—it's hard to talk about."

"If it's hard, you don't have to force yourself." She nodded, as if agreeing with herself.

David took a sharp breath and continued,"No, it's just—she found out something about me, she found out the wrong way."

"So, things didn't unfold quite how you wanted them to."

"No, it's just that—she found out that I'm gay." The g-bomb has been dropped.

Emily smiled faintly. "That's not a disease, you know."

"Right, right, I know. But _I _didn't want to tell her—not yet—but she found out because of one of my fr—a guy I knew from school."

"Still, it's nothing that you have to feel ashamed of."

"Yeah, well, try telling that to my mom."

Her eyes opened wider and the smile disappeared. "Your mom—she hasn't been supportive, then?"

Karofsky reached up to scratch behind his head. "No… not really…" He hesitated and continued, "Actually she's been a complete—No, definitely not supportive. Not at all."

"She isn't supportive at all, I see. And how does that make you feel?"

Obviously that was a stupid question. He was about to answer, but he paused. She was watching him from behind her glasses as if admiring a particularly interesting aquarium. "How does that make me _feel_?" The social worker nodded a little. Karofsky held back a laugh. _How do I feel? My mom thinks I'm diseased and my friends have all run away: I'm feeling absolutely peachy, thank you very much. The nasty food and weak coffee and endless boredom in the hospital have truly made me see how fortunate I am to be alive. Oh—and I'm horribly sorry about the old suicide gag; all a bit of a misunderstanding, really._ He realized correctly that this was not the time for irony, so instead he said,"It—she—makes me feel terrible. Like I'm worthless, like, a piece of shit."

Emily scratched her nose. He thought he saw her pick out a booger, but he decided later that the medication was screwing with his mind. "Right, right. She makes you feel worthless." Karofsky did not know it at the time, but as he bounced through the mental health system, he would come to learn three things about therapists. They parrot words relentlessly, they ask for information that is hard to put into words, and a lot of them are lesbians. "That must be frustrating. Have you tried reaching out to her?"

"What do you mean?"

She glanced at her watch and replied, "Oh, you know, sitting down and talking to her—talking about how you're still her son, no matter your sexuality." Karofsky grimaced, but the social worker did not see it. So she went on, "I have a few things here somewhere I could give you if you're interested. Have you heard of PFLAG?"

"Yeah." He remembered a conversation he had with Kurt over a year ago. Kurt was so cute. Karofsky often wondered about what he would do if Kurt and the scrawny greasy-haired guy ever broke up. It would not involve the gorilla suit—he'd already learned his lesson on that one. "I've heard of it."

"You've heard of it; good. That could be somewhere to start." She glanced at her watch. "Oh, dear. I'm sorry David, but we seem to have run out of time."

"OK." He wanted her to leave—his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Let's see… The doctor should be with you pretty soon, and I'll make sure to drop in again."

"Great." He showed her his best poker face.

"It's been a pleasure getting to know you, David." That was a blatant lie and they both knew it. "Take care."

"Thanks."

Emily smiled and walked to the door, which she didn't shut behind her. Time to wait for the doctor.


End file.
